


The worst things you can see from rock bottom.

by Anonymous



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Angst, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Forbidden Lust, Guilt, M/M, Masturbation, Parent/Child Incest, Voyeurism, Wrynncest, no happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:46:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27973905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Varian catches Anduin in the war room late at night, and they are forced to confront the unresolved sexual tension that haunts them.
Relationships: Anduin Wrynn/Varian Wrynn
Comments: 4
Kudos: 18
Collections: Anonymous





	The worst things you can see from rock bottom.

**Author's Note:**

> I always wondered if I would ever be able to write this ship. 
> 
> Thank you to my friends who helped me with some of the wording and editing for this!

People watched Anduin when he passed them by, and turned their faces towards him like plants turned towards the sun. This was something Varian had always noticed, but unlike those people who stopped and stared straight into his radiance, Varian Wrynn was not blinded. Anduin’s glow threatened to flicker and fade when he thought no one was looking, and he only seemed to shine when strangers were around. He was very good at pretending he was righteous, but Varian knew he was really just a mirror. He only reflected other people's light.

Sometimes, he reflected their darkness as well.

Anduin’s eyes rested on his father quite often, with looks that seared like burning coals on his skin. His touch made Varian’s body twitch, as though his DNA sought to unite once more into one, yearning for parts that were held in a body separate from his own. 

Varian was never sure if he should let his son rest a hand on his arm while they walked, or if he should keep him far away. More often than not, he thought it was safest to keep him far away. Anduin never complained but Varian noticed the creases forming at the edge of Anduin’s mouth.

Varian never asked him about it. He never asked about the times he hovered closer than necessary, either. Or the times his hand came to rest on his body, places that hadn’t been touched for longer than Anduin had been alive. Anduin’s fingers tingled with magic as they skated over Varian’s back, with a touch to remind him that Anduin was there with him. A touch to reassure him that Anduin understood. Above all else though, it was a touch to ask a question that neither of them wanted to ask out loud.

Varian could never tell if he was inferring what Anduin was really thinking, or if those moments when he caught him staring, with his bottom lip caught against his tooth, were simply a mirror image of his own heart. Varian would sigh, and turn his face away so Anduin wouldn’t see the way he grit his jaw. He would set down his fork and knife, hoping Anduin hadn’t noticed the rigid grip on his cutlery. Afterwards, the two of them would part ways, heading deep into different parts of the keep. Yet Varian was conscious that they were still somehow spiraling around one another, locked together in a perpetual waltz.

Someday, Varian thought that the two of them would crash together, much like they did in his dreadful fantasies, that twisted a little more inside his head every time Varian closed his eyes. Much to his agony, Varian couldn’t even find respite inside the bubble of his own mind - Anduin seemed to look at him here, too, lingering in the dark place between wakefulness and sleep.

In those final moments before consciousness escaped him, all that Varian could see was the violent image of breaking bones and tearing flesh, as their limbs knotted together as one, then shattered like glass into a million pieces. He wondered if - _when -_ it happened, their bodies would break like they did in his dreams.

Varian would wake with a start, then, sweating through his sheets and gasping for air. He would have to tell himself to pull himself together, remind himself that it was nothing but a dream, that there was still a great distance between them.

That didn’t make it any easier, though.

Especially not after dark, when all was silent, and he thought he could hear the sounds of Anduin touching himself echoing through the wall. Those nights closed in on Varian, and his mind would drift, sinking deeply into the sounds. He often didn’t even realise he was masturbating until he climaxed, the feeling of come on his knuckles always made him burn with shame, and countless other things that he could never wrap his head around.

Sometimes, to avoid hearing it and falling into temptation, Varian would walk the corridors of the keep late at night. He would sit upon the throne and brood, hyper-conscious of the empty seat beside him that Anduin’s mother used to call her own. He would stroll through silent hallways and study the old paintings of his forefathers. He would pass through the library and examine the spines of books that Anduin often ran his hands over in the daytime.

Sometimes, he would caress the gilded lettering, as though doing so might make his fingertips tingle with the ghost of Anduin’s touch. But that was all he would allow himself to take. The only thing. Varian had decided in the very moment he had understood what was happening, that he would never, _ever_ allow himself to surrender to this. There was more than just a throne and a legacy at stake.

This could ruin Anduin’s life.

It was hard though, to continue to resist when the young man was so _insistent_.

Varian had caught him in the war room one night, long after the guards that stalked the corridors had retired. The clock in the cathedral had barely struck two, and for a moment Varian had thought the shadowy shape leaning over the war table had been a trick of his eyes.

“Anduin?” Varian asked the silhouette, his vision still adjusting to the silver moonlight pouring through the windows.

“Varian?” The youth standing over the table looked up at him, and even in the shadows, Varian could see his eyes were wide with surprise.

Varian asked him what he was doing there. When he was younger, Varian would scold him for stalking the keep late at night, but Anduin was not a child anymore. He was a man. A man who reminded Varian of himself, and also of his beloved wife. He could not disentangle her from his eyes, from his hair, from the soft bow of a gentle mouth. Varian knew what Anduin’s lips felt like, without having ever felt them on his own.

“I couldn’t sleep.” Anduin replied. “I thought I would come down here and look at some of these old strategy documents instead. I know you wanted me to become more familiar with logistics...”

This looked like it could be true. His hair was unbrushed, the length skimming his shoulders. His under-eyes were bruised, and the line of his lips seemed thinner than usual. Varian noticed how, when he moved, the moonlight seemed to glow on his skin. It made him look like the marble of the cathedral floors, a masterpiece carved for those hallowed halls. Varian also noticed that the shirt he was wearing was one of his own - one that had gone missing a few weeks ago.

“Why are you up?” Anduin asked.

“I also couldn't sleep.” Varian answered.

Anduin gave him a small smile, and toyed with a lock of his hair. The gesture, was innocent, but affecting. Varian swayed where he stood. He was a warrior, but he was weak kneed at the sight. He couldn’t tell if what he was witnessing was real, or just an illusion caused by the night. Anduin cocked his head to the side, intrigued by the odd reaction.

“What?”

He asked it lightly, the word echoing in the space between them, breathless and almost... excited? Varian’s eyes fluttered closed, and a strange thought occurred to him. Was Anduin trying to make him do it first? Trying to pull him in and break his will so _he_ didn’t have to?

Before he could finish the thought, though, Anduin was inches away, reaching for his jaw. Carefully manicured fingers turned his face downwards, and Varian could see a void stirring deep in his eyes.

“What’s the matter?” Anduin asked, his grip firm and commanding. Varian faltered in his answer.

The matter was something terrible. More terrible than the largest, most terrible thing. The matter was that same thing that encompassed everything – his thoughts and his flesh and his aching loins - and the way that Anduin’s smile looked warm and welcoming. It made Varian feel like maybe he was _significant_ to someone. That maybe he _did_ deserve to give in to his craving just one time, and bring their noses together. Their foreheads. Their mouths.

“I’m fine.” He said instead.

“You seem a bit distracted lately.”

“Yeah,” Varian told him honestly, his voice cracking just a little bit. “Yeah I am.”

Anduin’s lips twitched, and there was a moment where everything seemed to freeze, and Varian knew this was it. Chaos screamed silently in his ears, and he felt like he was falling in slow motion. Anduin was leaning in to kiss him softly, like a snowflake drifting into a glittering carpet of snow at night. It was peaceful. Buzzing. The youth stood on his toes to reach around Varian’s neck, and he tasted just like the King had expected.

Varian felt his restraint crack and groan under pressure.

Anduin didn’t say anything when they parted. He just lingered there for a moment, his perfume filling Varian’s nostrils. The closeness of his lower body ensured that they both felt Varian’s response manifest between his legs. Varian was afraid, because he could taste that Anduin tingled with want, too. He let his arms slide away from Varian’s neck, and stepped back against the war table behind him.

 _You’re not allowed to touch him,_ Varian told himself. _You’re not allowed to touch him._

But they both knew they weren’t just going to leave things like that. Instead, Anduin looked down and set both his hands on the edge of the war table. With a small jump he lifted his feet, so he was sitting, perched on the edge of the ancient wooden surface. Varian was hypnotized by his hands as he moved them, one lifting to caress the side of an elegant throat, the blade of his collar bone visible from underneath the neckline of his borrowed shirt.

Varian felt like he could see everything in painstaking detail, right down to the weave of the cotton fabric, as it melted over his stomach, and bunched at his hips. Through the cloth, Anduin touched his chest, tracing over pricked nipples and the shape of his navel. Varian stepped closer to crowd him in. He knew he couldn’t touch, but Anduin seemed to think he had found a loophole. Varian couldn’t tell him there were no loopholes around this kind of thing.

“Do you want me to take this off?”

Anduin breathed, raking his eyes up and down Varian’s form and lingering for a moment at the bulge in the front of his trousers, where his dick was stirring. Varian’s muscles were beginning to tense, because he was already thinking about each place on their bodies he wanted to press together. He was already thinking about what it would be like to kneel in front of him and bury his face between his thighs. Varian was already thinking about gentle fingers tying in his wild, dark hair, thinking about his hands running over firm calves and slim ankles, and the way Anduin’s toes would flex as Varian sucked him.

_Ah._

It could have been so easy. There was no one else there. It was just the two of them all alone, and really, the two of them were basically the same. They were the same genes, after all. The same mind. Him and Anduin were wrought of the same DNA, shared across two different bodies - how cruel it was that now they were divided, the two of them couldn’t ever, _shouldn’t_ ever _,_ be together again.

“No. Just the pants.”

“Just the pants, then.” Anduin fluidly pulled the laces of the shirt loose, before leaning back on his elbows so the maps spread beneath him crinkled. He beckoned Varian forward with his eyes, and lifted a clothed leg in invitation. “Do you mind giving me a hand?”

It didn’t count if Varian’s fingers didn’t touch his skin, and if the toe hovering just in front of his abdomen didn’t brush against his belly button. Varian was careful to pluck the fabric of the pants between his fingers - tugging on the cuff of one leg. He watched as Anduin edged the band down to expose a sliver of his lower tummy, and the place where the valley of his hipbones met in a mound of dark blonde hair. The waist of his trousers caught on his thighs – he had to lift his hips so Varian could yank off the rest.

Varian closed his eyes.

There had to be an easier way to do this. Varian wasn’t sure he had the restraint to just stand there and look at him without touching. Every part of him felt like he was being pulled forward, falling into vertigo, and every part of Varian’s soul longed for him so fiercely it made him dizzy. He could sense Anduin dropping his leg, and then his thighs opening wide as Varian was left standing there with a pair of pants dangling from one hand. As Varian let them slip to the floor, he thought about how if he opened his eyes right now, he would see him – close enough that he could reach out and take him, if he wanted to.

Varian could pull out his own aching cock and offer it to him so easily, but instead he resisted, and strained his ears to hear the sound of Anduin lying back on the war table and slipping his hand over the terrain of his thighs. His breathing was heavy, almost obscuring the way he sighed when he rubbed himself, and Varian stood, rigid yet boneless, trembling all over with tension and desire. Cold sweat beaded in pinpricks on the back of his neck.

He allowed himself to take a breath, almost losing himself in the darkness behind his eyes, before he opened them again. His hands drifted to the edge of the war table, one either side of Anduin’s alabaster legs, and he forced himself to stare straight ahead and meet the young man’s gaze. Varian could see all his need reflected back at him in his expression. His lips looked so kissable, and Varian ran his tongue across his own so that he was not tempted to lean in and press the part of them closed with his mouth.

Varian could feel the heft of his hard cock, obviously stretching the crotch of his loose-fitting trousers. His face was hot, but the colouration was concealed in the darkness – Varian could swear the shadows in the corners of the room looked on in judgement, but he forced himself not to think about that. He would have given his immortal soul to be able to fuck him right now, anything in the world to be able to kiss him, and hold him, and be inside him so far that he shook apart. Varian wanted his name synchronised with his heartbeat, for his nerves to buzzy with the ghost of the orgasm he would be given in exchange for returning Varian’s desire.

Varian’s hands tightened on the edge of the table. This really was happening right now, wasn’t it? Varian was standing here watching the man pleasure himself? His resolve waivered. His head dropped so he could press their noses together, and he could feel Anduin’s shallow, urgent breathing on his lips. A sound lifted from the young man’s throat, and beneath him Varian could feel him tilt his pelvis and almost brush against Varian’s erection. The King held his breath, locked in the effort required to hold his muscles rigid and keep his hips hovering just out of reach. The pounding of his pulse was so strong in his balls that it was beginning to hurt.

“Don’t stop,” he growled, lips so close to Anduin’s he could almost imagine he felt them touching some more, “Good boy, don’t stop.”

Varian’s voice was steady, low, but he knew deep down that he was begging. Anduin’s chest shook and rattled - he squirmed as though he wasn’t completely in control of what he was feeling and rocked his hips again. Varian fixed his eyes on Anduin’s right shoulder, watching it jiggle urgently as he touched himself. A shock struck through him when Anduin jerked his chin up and gasped, and Varian felt his stomach muscles clench as his dick gave a massive, hard twitch.

“Oh fuck… oh _fuck_ yes keep going.” If Anduin didn’t keep going, Varian thought he really might die. He needed him to finish more than he had ever needed to come himself. He needed it so much he could actually physically feel it in his chest, like his heart was tearing up his lungs which were barely drawing enough oxygen to keep him conscious. The quiet, pleasured sounds Anduin was making made Varian feel wild, frenzied with the same kind of lust that filled him in gladiatorial combat, and the obscene way Anduin tipped his head back made Varian groan aloud. The front of his pants was soaked with readily flowing precome.

It felt good. A restricted, appalling, intolerable kind of good. It was like being shackled and beaten, except so much worse, and when the very tip of Varian’s erection dragged against fabric, the ache and the pain of holding back became unbearable. Anduin’s breath was starting to grow erratic and loud. So loud he was starting to moan as though Varian really _was_ doing it. Like he really was balls deep in him, claiming him with all the ruthlessness his hunger demanded. When Varian finally succumbed to his weakness, and turned his eyes down to see him properly, he knew he had hit his limit. The way Anduin’s beauty shone through dark cheeks and tousled hair was blinding. Varian couldn’t stop this even if he wanted to.

And then Anduin gasped, bringing his spare hand up to touch the side of Varian’s face. The buzzing in his ears became screaming, and his lungs suddenly started working, and Varian found himself sucking in a shocking volume of air. His entire body shuddered, and pleasure crawled up his spine. His head was wrenched back by the strength of his muscles contracting, and he thought fleetingly that he must have shouted loud enough to have woken the guards.

_Please don’t let that have woken the guards._

When he came back to himself, he could barely think through the bliss of chemicals flooding his brain, and the thick, exhausted feeling that mingled with a swelling nausea and made him tremble weakly. Anduin was panting hard, like he did when he practiced with his sword, and his shaking hands shifted to press over his face as he caught his breath. He was quaking harder than Varian was, and his fingers were pallid like he was made of ice.

The warmth of come in Varian’s pants brought back memories of being a desperate teenager. He hadn’t fucking come in his underwear since he was a _teenager_. Right now, though, Varian felt so much older than a teenager. So much older than the forty-year-old man that he was.

As Anduin started to sob harshly into his hands, Varian Wrynn felt older than time, his guilt bigger than the depth and breadth of the universes. He was more helpless than he had ever been, as he stood there and watched his child suffer, condemned by all the stars in every unknown sky.

  
  



End file.
